


The Best Mornings

by yachterotter



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Future Fic, Post-6x09, Pregnancy, post-6x08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 11:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13189452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yachterotter/pseuds/yachterotter
Summary: She's not used to these quiet mornings anymore, a reminiscent of what their normal was during that summer two years back.A fluffy little piece about five quiet mornings at the Smoak-Queen household. (Post-6x08 and 6x09)





	The Best Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a while (years?) since I've posted anything online, so I am a little rusty. I've had parts of this super fluffy fic written for a while now, but I've decided to complete it and finally share it with everyone. Feedback will definitely be appreciated. 
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine.

**one.**

The quiet of the morning stuns her as she shifts through the blankets.

She's not used to these kinds of mornings anymore, a reminiscent of what their normal was two years back.

There they lay, tired from the battles of the last few days, yet, content and blissed out.

And that’s not just from last night’s activities.

They have just gotten married the day before - a spontaneous little ceremony at Central City - heading straight home to Oliver's (their) apartment for their wedding night. 

Felicity Smoak is a realist. She knows that not all mornings are going to be like this. She knows that there will be mornings with tears on their faces, a million problems on their plates, disagreements on their minds. And just as she said yesterday, she knows and believes that whatever comes their way, their love can withstand anything.

Right now, they have plenty of things that they have to take care of: a lawyer to call, papers to sign, rings to buy, a reception to plan, and her mother to call.

And oh, she still has to officially move in.

“Hey. Talk to me.”

Her husband’s words break her train of thought as she takes his hand in hers.

“We really should get those rings first thing today,” she mumbles. “And the movers! We should definitely give them a call.”

She hears him agree but feels his lips on her shoulders, making their way to her lips.

“This first.”

So maybe they spend another hour or two in bed that morning, and the only thing that stopped them from making it three is William knocking on the door, looking for breakfast. She could definitely get used to mornings like this.

 

**two.**

She stares up at her husband, his face like a child’s, a sight she’s not accustomed to considering the events of the last few months, and brings her hand to caress his stubbled jaw.

It's over. They're here now. They're safe.

Saying that it has been a rough couple of months is an understatement, she thinks.

Going back to their wedding last winter, she realizes that there wasn't really time for them to slow down and enjoy being together alone. Which is why she couldn't thank the Diggles enough for giving them the greatest belated wedding gift ever: two plane tickets, an all-expense paid trip to Bali, and a three-month break from everything.

It was just one stressful event after another. One life threatening battle after another. It came to a point where she thought she was going to be a widow after being married for five months.

Which brings her to the next issue she has had at hand: he doesn't know it yet.

After all, she just found out last week while he was in the middle of a battle.

She hasn't thrown away the stick yet. In fact, it's right inside her purse, free for him to check if he ever pleases. (One thing that she absolutely loves about her husband? He trusts her enough to not go through her stuff without her permission.)

She feels him shift beside her and hears his sleep-laden voice urging her to go back to slumber as she looks up at him, watching him open those beautiful blue eyes that she hopes would pass on to -

He breaks her thought with a kiss. Damn him.

“Morning.”

She sees his sleepy face turn into his questioning one, and she knows how to read Oliver enough to know what he's about to say.

So what if she begins to rub his back in an attempt to feign innocence?

“Good morning to you, too.”

Judging by his face, she's sure that he doesn't buy it, but he doesn't press on as he wraps his arms around her and shifts them on his back.

“Still sleepy. Talk later.” He says as she feels his lips on her forehead and knows that he's falling asleep again.

She sighs.

“There is… something.”

She feels his body freeze and she knows that he's coming up with the worst scenarios in his head right now.

“It's not something… bad. Which you might be thinking considering the look at your face. It's just something… something.”

She stares up at him with a smile on her face hoping to calm him down.

“Something?”

“Considering that I normally talk ten words per second and my brain usually comes up with something to say, saying this seems to be the most difficult thing to do.”

“What is it?”

Here goes.

“Oliver, you're going to be a dad.”

She sees his face light up into a smile.

“Again. I mean, obviously, because you're already one since, duh, William, but -”

He doesn't even let her finish when she feels his arm pull her up and his pillowy lips on hers.

She can feel him smile in his kiss as she feels his hair through her fingers. And she swears she's never had a better morning like this one.

 

**three.**

Quiet mornings were a rare thing after that, really.

Most were spent hunched down in the toilet as her body releases the contents of her stomach from last night’s dinner. Others were spent with an excruciating bout of dizziness as she hides under the pillows in an attempt to block any, if not all, light and sound. Oh, she's just so ready for this first trimester to be over.

Which is why on a Saturday morning, on her thirteenth week of pregnancy, no signs of her wanting to go to the bathroom, she feels almost content.

If only her husband were here in bed to enjoy it with her.

She knew that he left a few hours ago right after a phone call from Dig in the wee hours of the night. Feeling his lips on her forehead, hearing him mutter “I'll be home as soon as I can” as she reaches her arm in an attempt to stop him from leaving, she silently hoped that it was all a dream and that she'd wake him with him beside her.

Although, if not for her doctor's orders to 'avoid stress' and 'stay away from work for a week' - which her husband conveniently interpreted as 'no nightly saving-the-world activities for you' three days ago, she would be up and about in the lair right now. She's about to grab her glasses when she eyes his note -

Breakfast should be ready. It's in the slow cooker. Thought you might be hungry when you wake up.

PS. Don't forget to drink your vitamins. They're on the kitchen counter.

PPS. I love you. ❤

PPPS. See you later.

And she smiles at the thought of the Green Arrow who's probably beating up criminals at this moment, drawing hearts on a note that he leaves his wife before going into battle.

'See you later' became their new 'goodbye.' After his whole speech of 'not saying goodbye this time' she's pretty sure that they subconsciously avoided that word all together.

All the more when he's about to go into a fight he's not sure he's going to go back alive from.

She remembers that night in May. The way her heart stopped when his comms went off. That feeling of not knowing, that feeling of regret that she didn't tell him what she found out in the bathroom just a few hours ago not wanting to distract him from the mission.

She never, ever wants to feel that way again, but by now, she knows better.

So maybe she throws up at the smell of his slow cooked omelette (really?). And he comes home about an hour later with a bandaged shoulder and a few bruises on his back.

As long as she wakes up knowing that she'll see him later, it's enough.

 

**four.**

Hospitals are not her favorite place in the world.

She irks at the antiseptic smell, she shudders at the beeping sound of the machine, she cringes at the sight of needles.

And after everything they've been through in the last seven years, she really doesn't want to be anywhere near them.

She's pretty sure that she was almost decided that she was going to give birth at home.

Which is why she's surprised when she feels utter bliss waking up on a hospital bed one Tuesday morning, her husband staring at her with the biggest smile on his face, their newborn daughter in his arms.

Elizabeth Moira Queen, all screaming six pounds of perfection, is born in the wee hours of the morning on a Tuesday.

She's very exhausted, but she'll happily go through those twelve hours of labor again if it meant waking up to this.

She hears Oliver whisper, “mommy's awake” as he hands her their little bundle of joy.

“Good morning, baby girl,” she greets him as she settles him in her arms.

That earns her a little blink from her little one and she smiles as she brings her lips to her forehead, inhaling that beautiful scent she's pretty sure she wants to bottle up.

This is definitely the best morning of her life.

 

**five.**

Nothing really prepares you for parenthood. Yes, she's had some practice with William - but he isn't a screaming three-month old colicky baby who has a knack for waking up in the middle of the night and early in the morning.

Truly, she is her father's daughter.

Which is why she's surprised that she wakes up at ten in the morning on a Saturday, without the sound of her daughter's cries.

Curious, she walks to the nursery and is met by the beautiful sight of her husband in his suit, with little Beth in his arms, dozing on her chair.

The light sleeper that he is, it doesn’t take long for Oliver to wake up.

“Hey. Morning.”

He angles their daughter to give her space to snuggle up with them as he drops a quick peck on her forehead.

“Don’t you have to go to City Hall?”

“I figured you needed the sleep. Called the office earlier. Quentin said he understood, said something about new parents and babies. He probably heard Beth crying all throughout the call.”

She chuckles at that moment and decides that she’ll take this extra opportunity to get some more sleep. Just then, her path to sleep is disrupted by a series of knocks on the door.

“Hey, buddy,” she heard and felt her husband say as she’s cuddled in his arms. She opens her eyes to her stepson walking towards them with a plate of cupcakes in hand.

“I made Beth cupcakes, for her third month birthday. We can light a candle and sing for her when she wakes up,” she hears William say as his face lights up. As she extends her arm and invites William in for their awkward little family cuddle, she savors the rest of this quiet morning.

Out of all their mornings so far, this is definitely in the top three. 

Probably even the best one. 

(Also, the cupcakes were delicious.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
